


Pleasure In Pain

by sweeterthankarma



Category: Actor RPF, Divergent (Movies), Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Divergent Filming, Established Relationship, F/M, It's pretty soft, Minor Injuries, Protective Theo, Theo takes care of Shai (in more ways than one), not as kinky as it sounds, not really very kinky at all actually sorry if that's your thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 19:42:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13864668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeterthankarma/pseuds/sweeterthankarma
Summary: “Take off your shirt,” he says quietly.I scoff. “As much as I’d like to, I don’t think that’s an appropriate thing to do right now, considering my physical situation.”He chuckles and raises his eyebrows at me, amused by my crude humor, as always. Then he nudges my injured shoulder, pulling up the fabric. “Not for that, silly. I need to clean your cuts.”I move to stand up and take it off, but he guides my back against the mirror.“Just let me, okay? Don’t worry about it.”





	Pleasure In Pain

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic years ago, back when I shipped Shailene and Theo and just stumbled upon it recently and figured I'd share it. I don't usually write about real people anymore, but know that when writing this I had nothing but the utmost respect in mind for Shai and Theo. Writing fic for real life ships, especially ones that aren't canon, can be viewed as problematic, but I hope people who shipped / ship them enjoy this! Personally, I'll always think something went on between them during filming- I mean, just watch their interviews and look at their chemistry...I'll shut up now ;)

“And- action!” Neil calls and slams down the marker. The sound of the cameras and the whirring engine of the train echo in my mind as I begin to run.

I move alongside the train, a well built box fully furnished with futuristic looking metal and rust. I love doing the physical stunts that are necessary for the movie, but they’re admittedly difficult, even after lots of practice. This is at least our thirtieth take for this scene- one in which Tris breaks out of the Dauntless infirmary and chases the train in order to make it to the initiate’s game of capture the flag. To say I am tired is an understatement, but I am determined to make this scene perfect; after all, it was a pivotal moment to show Tris’s strength and newfound abilities. I only hope I can portray it with justice, we’ve been shooting for hours.

I run along the platform, lifted up just high enough so that I can hop up onto the train once I reach  it. I trail behind it, keeping my eyes on Theo- or  _ Four _ \- as he watches me from the doorway, surprised and still, yet with a hint of appreciation. I glance at the camera to my right, and then reach out to grab the handle on the doorway. 

Just as my fingers wrap around it, my body shifts. I slip on a crack in the platform and fall, slamming to my knees with a thud. I roll off the platform onto something sharp- a pile of rocks and dust. My wrist jams between the platform and a rock and I yank it away too fast, my heart expanding as I hear a dull crack. I push away, onto my side, and clutch my chest. The wood had skimmed my shoulders, and now I can feel it.

    “Cut! Stop!” Neil yells, as he and a bunch of other camera men rush to my side. Theo jumps down from the train, running over and kneeling beside me. He brushes my hair away from my face and says my name and for a moment I forget almost entirely what just happened.

I reposition myself onto my knees, brushing my scattered hair back into its ponytail. 

    “I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” I say, bringing myself reluctantly to my feet.

My hip and shoulder throb, and I can feel gravel digging into my hands, but I force a smile at everyone around me and move back to the starting point.

    “Shai, stop,” Theo says, moving in front of me. “Are you sure you’re okay? You took quite a beating, didn’t you?”

I scoff, shrugging it off. “Theo,” I say, resting my hand on his elbow. “I’m fine, seriously.” 

He frowns, clearly not convinced. He pushes up the sleeves of my jacket, checking my skin for any cuts or bruises. I bite my lip as his fingers brush over a darkening, reddish bruise covering the side of my arm.

    He swears under his breath. “God, Shai, what’d you slip on?!”

I shrug again, pulling away. Hot air covers my cheeks. “It’s nothing big, seriously. Can we just keep rolling? I’m okay,”

    “And look-” He touches his fingers to my jaw, and they come away red. “You’re bleeding too! Come on, let’s go back to the hotel. You’re done for today.”

I tug away from his grasp, fighting back tears as the impact worsens the pain. “No, I’m not! We’ve got to get this scene done, at least- come on, I’m fine. I’ll just have the medic clean me up and then we can-”

Theo takes my face in his hands, moving stray pieces of hair away from my ears. “You’re done, okay?” His forehead was lined with creases, his eyes concerned. “I’m not going to argue with you, I’m not letting you go on like this. You’re not okay.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m fine,” I protest.

    “You’re not. I love you, Shai, you know I do, but in all honesty, you look like shit right now. You need to take a break, at least, stop pushing yourself so hard.”

    “He’s right,” Neil says, coming to stand beside him. “Take the day off, please. And maybe even tomorrow. We’ve got some scenes we can film with just the extras or to get some views of the city. It’s not a big deal, seriously. Your health is what matters; you two just get some rest for now.”

I sigh and don’t argue with him. Theo thanks him and leads me away in the direction of the parking lot, where our cab is already waiting. I don’t want to admit it, because I always want to give one hundred and ten percent in all that I do in every film, but I am thankful to leave. My shoulder aches, the cut on my chin burns, and the pain seems to be getting worse by the minute.

    “You’re an idiot sometimes, you know that?” Theo says once we get inside. Annoyance is laced in his tone, but I know he’s not truly angry. He leads me into the bathroom of his hotel room and hoists me up onto the counter without question before walking away into the kitchen. 

    “It’s acceptable to take time off, especially for an action movie. People get hurt on set all the time,” he continues, practically yelling so that I could hear him from across the large suite. “It’s expected. This is your first time getting hurt, anyways. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. You’re a trooper.”

He returns a moment later with a glass of water and two pain relievers in his hand. 

    “Thank you,” I say and force them down my throat, praying that they work quickly. I can feel the blood forming a trail down my neck.

Theo lifts a hand on my jaw, dabbing my cut with a cool cloth. “You shouldn’t be begging to stay, especially when you get hurt this bad. You gotta know when to stop.”

I sigh. “I know, I know, I’m sorry.”

His eyes meet mine, softer now than they were before, and his lips turn up into a small smile.

    “Don’t be sorry,” he murmurs, and presses his mouth to my cheek, gently, barely there. 

    “Take off your shirt,” he says quietly.

I scoff. “As much as I’d like to, I don’t think that’s an appropriate thing to do right now, considering my physical situation.”

He chuckles and raises his eyebrows at me, amused by my crude humor, as always. Then he nudges my injured shoulder, pulling up the fabric. “Not for that, silly. I need to clean your cuts.”

I move to stand up and take it off, but he guides my back against the mirror.

    “Just let me, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

I pretend to be frustrated with him, but little butterflies take off in my stomach as he carefully pulls my shirt over my head. He rolls it up into a ball and throws it into the other room, landing it in the center of the laundry hamper. He applauds himself for his success, but then his face settles as he opens a small first aid kit. 

I watch him in silence as he runs his fingers along my skin, testing the redder areas for any breaks or bumps. He says I only have a bump on my right wrist and left forearm, a cut under my chin and a few scattered bruises. I don’t know how long it takes for him to clean me up; I am content watching him. I take note in little things he does- the way his eyebrows furrow just slightly when he applies a bandaid, focused and careful. I teasingly ask him if he wants me to take my bra off when he tends to a mark on my ribcage, and he only lets the corner of his mouth flicker upwards just a little bit, before seriously answering, “no.” 

I watch the way his eyes harden and soften at once whenever he notices a scratch or a cut or a bruise, and how gently he smooths healing lotion over my elbow and shoulder blade. The way his fingers press against my hipbone, eanling a small gasp from me that is hopefully only barely audible to him; it is due to both pain, surprise, and the close proximity of his hands and what lies only slightly beneath them. 

He finishes and packs away the ointment and bandages under the sink.. He comes back with a larger shirt in his hand, one of his flannels. I put it on and try to ignore the brush of fabric against my sore arms.

   "I can't believe I actually hurt myself when we were almost done for he day," I say with a short laugh, following him into the bedroom. He lays down on the bed, switching on the TV, and laughs along with me, a loud, happy sound that makes me feel relaxed, even as my wrist throbs. I pull off my pants, which are far too tight for comfort, and lay down next to him, curling against his side.   

    "It’s alright," he says, flipping through the channels. "It's not a good idea that they had all those rocks under there, though."

I rest my cheek against his chest, his arm wrapping around my body and holding me close. I breathe in his scent and focus on the sound of his calm, quiet breaths as he absently rubs my back, and I let myself fall off into sleep. 

  
  
  
  


I don’t know how much later I wake up, I assume it’s only been an hour or so because the same movie is still on, almost towards the end. Theo is still next to me, and his eyes are on me as soon as mine open.

I sit up, and it doesn’t hurt too much. The dull ache is still there, but it’s not unmanageable. Maybe this pain would be good to help me get into character more. After all, Tris deals with constant physical pain in this movie. If I can cope with at least a fraction of what she is, it would likely be much more realistic.  

    "How are you doing?" Theo murmurs, brushing my hair away from my face and tucking it behind my ear, his deft fingers trailing along my cheek afterwards. This is one of his favorite things to do, I am learning. His eyes are gentle but firm and admiring, similar to how they were when he was cleaning me up earlier.

I smile at him and lean forward, so there is only a few inches between us. 

    “Better,” I say, and then press forward to kiss him.

I don't feel tired anymore, though, and I don’t feel weak. With his hand resting on my waist and his breathing in my ear, I feel awake and restless.

I let my lips linger on his while sliding closer, shifting my weight until I lay on his chest. I kiss him harder, and his hands find their way into my hair, tugging it gently out of the ponytail it was in. He runs his fingers through it, smoothing it out and I smile against his lips. I forget about the ache of my wrist, the shock of my foot slipping off the platform, and everything else that happened today; I forget about how I was supposed to bring my costume back to the designer for cleaning and fixing the parts that ripped. I forget everything except the feeling of Theo's hands, sliding painstakingly up my spine beneath my shirt.

I shiver involuntarily, wrapping my hand around his biceps. I breathe in his scent and press my hips against his, teasing, and just like that, he stops. His breathing is ragged and when he opens his eyes, there is desire in them- but he pushes it away, just as he does with his body. 

    “Shai...not now. Just get some rest, okay? You're too injured.” His voice is deep and rough; his tone lets me know that he wishes he didn’t have to say that.

I sigh, but don’t move. "I'm not tired, I just slept. And I'm not  _ that  _ hurt. I just fell a little bit. I'm fine."

He doesn't stop me now, even when I drag his shirt up his body and throw it to the floor. He just gives me a stern look, and then eases my hands back to my sides. Although his expression is hard, I can see amusement carved into his features. 

    "You know, I can't believe I'm stopping you," he says, finally letting a smirk spread out onto his face, “because I must admit, seeing you like this is quite endearing...but I'm serious. You just fell of a damn train.”

    “It was a fake train,” I protest. “It wasn’t even moving.”

    “The platform was.”

I shrug. “So what?”

He’s silent for a moment. “There's no way you could handle this right now anyways,” he finally says. 

My eyes widen and I scoff, smacking his arm. “Get over yourself.”

    “That isn’t what I meant. Well, I mean, it’s true.”

I hit him again.

    “But really, Shai, you’re beaten up pretty bad. You shouldn’t move too much.”

"Fine," I say, huffing out another breath and falling back onto the pillows. I smirk at him. "Then I won't."

He raises his eyebrows at me. "What are you implying?"

"I think you know," I reply as flirtatiously as I can. I'd never been one for seduction; I'd always found that the most intimate sex came from just letting it happen, especially with Theo. Now was probably going to be one of those times. 

He lets out a breath of defeat and rolls his body on top of mine, careful not to press too hard against me. "You're impossible," he murmurs against my neck.

    “Knew you couldn’t resist,” I whisper as innocently as I can. He murmurs something, the sound muffled by the kisses he presses to my neck . One of his hands grasps my hip and the other finds the curve of my breast, squeezing lightly. I shiver and turn his face towards mine, kissing him so he won't notice. Although I'm sure he knows, sometimes it's embarrassing about how easily I react to his touch. Although I can't say he doesn't struggle from the same issue- I hear a sigh rattle from his throat as I tug gently on his bottom lip with my teeth. 

I focus on the feeling of his mouth against mine as he moves his arms down my body, brushing his fingers in light, fragile circles against my hip bones, moving slowly and gently, like he thinks I'm about to break. 

He presses a kiss against my collarbone, and then bunches my shirt up in his fists as far as it can go, frustrated with the fabric in the way. I could say the same- he’s completely bare in front of me, at least from the waist up, and it’s close to torture that I'm not the same, and we're not closer together. Theo coaxes me upwards slowly so I'm sitting so he can take my shirt off..

    "I  _ can _ move, you know," I say, slightly irritated at how limited he's being.

    “You said you wouldn’t.” 

I groan, and want to protest again, but then my shirt is gone and I know I shouldn’t push my luck. I’m fortunate he’s even going along with this right now; as kinky as he can be, his protectiveness has always come first. 

    Theo wraps his arms around me and buries his head into the crook of my shoulder, and begins to kiss me there, slowly and gingerly. I let my head fall back and I stop trying to hold in my breaths. His embrace is warm, his strong hands running up and down my back, his stubble tickling my collarbone. He kisses behind my ear; I can feel him smirk when I moan, and he sucks on the spot that he knows drives me crazy.

I slide my hands out from under his clutch and blindly search for his belt. I struggle with it, unable to fully see what I'm grasping at from where I sit.

    “Let me,” he murmurs. I feel a burst of air against my side, cold from his absence as he gets up and undoes his buckle. Disappointment floods through me at the sight of him getting up, but the simple thought of what's coming next and the exhilaration of it takes it's place quickly. He takes his boxers off with them and a shiver rolls through my body when I see the part of him that was previously exposed spring free.

He turns and catches me staring, and raises his eyebrows, smirking. I flush and suddenly want to hide my face, but when he leans over and kisses me again I forget whatever was going through my mind. I remember that this has happened before, that we’re not strangers, that we’re best friends- more than best friends. 

I reach my arms behind myself to undo my bra, but he beats me to it, his fingers quickly undoing the clasp and tossing it to the floor like he's done many times before, landing in a pile among his own discarded clothes. He kisses my cheek, as if he's unable to go so long without touching me- which may be true; it is for me, at least. He moves his body on top of mine, his weight warm and heavy, his length pressing firm against my thigh. It takes all my strength to hold back as he runs his hand slowly down my body until he reaches the apex of my thighs. He presses his mouth to my breasts, and I don't know where to focus on, the flicking of his tongue against my burning skin or the brush of his thumb on the apex of my legs. I moan involuntarily and curse myself afterwards, flushing. I'd like to think that he didn't notice, but once he starts stroking faster, I know it has worked, in either a blessing or a curse. For a moment I shake, unable to do anything else, and I let my eyes close, coming alive with the feeling of his fingers and mouth in action. But then he stops, right when I am about to unravel, and moves away. I whine in protest, grabbing his hand and pulling him back. He smirks and softly says, “patience”, then gets up and rummages through his luggage bag across the room, most likely for a condom. My core throbs, and without thinking I press my fingers to my clit, sighing quietly when the much needed pressure comes back. I let my eyes close for a moment- but the moment is cut short when I feel a strong hand pulling my own away.

    “Don't do that,” Theo whispers, his voice feather soft in my ear. “Let me take care of you.”

I smile at him. Even though he's sexy, he's sweet too, and I can't forget that he's my best friend. I know he cares about me and would never hurt me. That makes giving myself to him like this much easier and all the more enjoyable.

Theo moves his body down, so he's in between my legs, and doesn't waste much time before touching me. His hands know exactly what they're doing and so does his mouth, he doesn't stumble at all, although by the constant heat on my thighs from his breath, I assume he's as worked up as I am. He licks up my slit, over and over; I can feel his smirk as he stops for a moment and I whine. He gives in again and touches me slowly, teasing. His fingertips go everywhere I need it most, and I have to grip the bedsheets to keep from squirming. 

     “You said you were gonna take care of me,” I hiss between gritted teeth. “This is not helping me.”

He chuckles, rubbing his hands along my thighs, and kisses along my stomach. He doesn't say anything, just continues where he left off, rotating his fingers along my clit. I'm about to come and he knows this, so he doesn't tease me anymore or try to make me wait. I come around his fingers, moans roll off my lips as my orgasm floods my body in light waves. Though partly closed eyelids I can see Theo smiling up at me. I sit up abruptly to kiss him and pain shoots through my spine. I swear under my breath.

Theo gives me a look, but rubs my back until the pain goes away. “This is why I said we shouldn't do this,” he says, although there is not the slightest tone of remorse in his voice. 

    “Shut up,” I snap back, but press a kiss to his mouth so he knows I'm only kidding. “Now fuck me,” I whisper, the words leaving my mouth before I even consciously decided to say them. The shock in Theo's eyes at my sudden vulgar word choice is evident, but is quickly replaced with a flame. He grasps my face in his hands, kissing me hard, and lays me back down on the bed. 

    “Talk like that more often and I'll never say no to you,” he murmurs as he positions himself above me. He stares at me for a moment, licking his lips, his palms pressed against the sheets next to my head. He bends to kiss me again, sweetly, but within seconds his movements become more desperate. He bites my lip, my neck, my jaw, trailing his way down to my chest, unafraid to use his teeth. I don't fight my moans anymore, I let them leave my mouth, knowing they'll encourage him to do more. He sucks on my nipple hard, and I buck my hips uncontrollably, wanting him to get on with it already. But he takes his time, touching and licking and kissing my breast in all the right ways that he knows drives me crazy. 

Just the simple brushes of his fingers on my side are making me antsy. Combining that with the movement of his mouth on my chest and the weight of his member only inches from my legs and the puddle of wetness between them, I'm so close to my second orgasm of the day, I can feel it approaching. He seems to know this so he positions himself, his shaft pressing against my entrance. 

    “Ready?” he asks, his eyes searching mine for confirmation like they always do even though I’m sure he already knows.

I nod, taking a few seconds to catch my breath, and then feel it knocked out of me as soon as he enters me.

I feel like I can't breathe enough air, but in a good way, in the  _ best  _ way. I watch his face as he relaxes, his elbows resting beside my head. He leans down to kiss me, laying his body on top of mine before slowly pulling out and thrusting back in. His breaths are already coming short, I know he's struggling to go slow, but the torture feels good, too. The desperation, the struggle to go slow...it makes it all feel so much more drawn out. 

    “You good?” he asks. 

I nod. “So good.” 

He knows exactly how to move, exactly how to touch me and kiss me and tease, and it’s all so much, so fast, but still careful. Affection swells in my chest, mixed with dark, deep lust; his movements are erotic and quick and slick, but his hands are smooth and gentle on my hips and his lips are on mine, slow. The contrast is jarring. 

    “God,” I breathe, pulling his lips to mine and silencing my moans.

It doesn’t take long before I come undone beneath him- he doesn’t go too easy on me and I appreciate it, he knows just what I need- and it’s a beautiful sight to watch him do the same. He kisses me hard, fingertips soft against my warm skin, thrusts hard, but there’s an intimacy to his movements that’s impossible to miss. It’s almost better than the sex _ \- almost-  _ to admire the tenderness in her gaze, the gentleness of his touch, but it resonates just as deeply. My orgasm settles, warm and encompassing all over my body as I lay sprawled on the bed. I watch Theo as he gets up, leaves the room, and when he comes back to the room he brings two glasses of water and another pain reliever. 

    “You’re going to be the death of me,” I say when I press up on my elbows and he urges me to stay where I am. Still, I press a kiss to his mouth before taking the water and medicine.

    “That’s exactly what I’m not trying to be,” he says smartly, sliding into the bed besides me. “Do you see how much I’m taking care of you?”

    “I do,” I respond, snuggling into his side. His hand brushes against my thigh, lips in my hair, and I’m suddenly exhausted. 

    “Thank you,” I murmur, peppering a kiss on his shoulder, where my head lays. I sigh, relaxing. Then, a moment later, I say, “if this is the end result, maybe I’ll get hurt more often.”

He chuckles, nudging me too soft to be considered a shove, and threads his fingers through my hair. “Get some rest, Shai.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave feedback or come say hi on my Tumblr under the same username!


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